Timewarp Prom
Part 2

It is the day of the prom, seven thirty p.m. and all over town young men are sweating nervously in their borrowed Tuxedos and shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot on neat porches as they get a lecture on appropriate behaviour from the father of their dates. In the Caldwell household Janet is waiting nervously as there is no sign of her date. She is wearing a stunning pale blue crepe de chine gown which arrived earlier that day by courier. Then enclosed card simply said "from your fairey godfather."

SOUND FX : Vroom Vroom, vroomvroomvroomveroomvrum

MRS C : Those maniacs in hot rods, they drive way too fast. There will surely be an accident one day.

MR C : They're just revving the engine and showing off. Prob'ly some beat up ol' chevvy they got hold of.

Just then there is a knock at the door and Janet flies to answer it.

IAN : Wow, you look stunning. Top Totty in town or what?

JANET : Hi Ian, you're late.

IAN : Yeah, sorry. Uncle Toby's ship is in Galveston so he brought the jalopy up for me. Thought when I'm finished here I might like to drive down to the west coast.

JANET : (Incredulously) Your Uncle brought your car? From England? On his ship?

IAN : Actually its not his ship, the Queen sort of owns it but she likes to travel on something a bit more luxurious than an aircraft carrier so old Tobes sort of runs it around for her. He's a Rear Admiral.

JANET : Oh, when will he get to be a Fore Admiral?

IAN : Wha - hey, good one. When they build a golf course on the flight deck I s'pose. Hey, d'ya like the old banger. A bit super isn't it? (He points to a bright red sports car parked across the road) Well, let's be off to this prom thingy then.

JANET: Um Ian, you have not really understood the whole prom thing have you. It's like a rite of passage. You are supposed to meet my parents and ask if they approve of of my going to the prom with you.

IAN: Treacle, no girl's parents have ever approved of me. I'm rather proud of that.

JANET: Just stop fooling and play along will you. It's an American thing, OK?

IAN: What, like guys with beards still calling their old man "sir."

JANET: And can you do something about the car.

IAN : Hey, that car is a classic, I'm not ashamed its a few years old.

JANET : Its a sports car. Mom doesn't approve.

IAN : Bit of a non - sequitur treacle. I know its a sports car and I guess your mom does not approve of anything. She has a disapproving mouth. But where's the connection?

JANET : Idiot, she doesn't approve of sports cars or people who drive them.

IAN : Oh well I don't approve of mothers so we're quits.

JANET : Promise you'll behave when I introduce you

Ian smooths down the sleeves of his maroon velvet dinner suit and straightens the yellow kipper tie printed with maroon penny farthing bicycles that matches his shirt. Janet shows him into the house. Mrs Caldwell's lips are compressed so tightly her face looks like a dog's bottom with a hat on.

MRS C : Upstairs now lady. Erskine, talk to this....this......THIS

MR C : For heaven's sakes woman, leave the kids alone. I'm trying to watch the ball game here.

The two women leave the room or perhaps we should borrow a stage driection from "A Winter's Tale", Janet exits pursued by a bear. Erskine Caldwell III carefully puts down his can of Coors and reluctantly moves the gallon bucket of Pork Scratchings that is poised delicately on his pot belly before scrambling to his feet and lumbering across the room.

MR C : Gerrcha (this is not a proper word in US English but is the sound English fathers make when confronted simultaneously by an unsuitable date and the realisation that their little girlie is growing up. Recovery is rare and unpredictable and Gerrcha is often the only sound they will make during the rest of their lives) Janet has not been able to provide an Americanism to match but I'm sure there is one.

IAN : Hi Mr C, jolly pleased to make your acquaintance, what's your line of country exactly.

MR. C : Gerrcha! Line, did you say line, boy. What kind of person has my girl got herself mixed up with. (He looks with bewilderment at the gold chain around the Englishman's neck from which hangs a plastic replica of Florence Nightingale's teeth)

IAN : Ah, um bit of a misundertanding eh? Absolutely yah. Line of country, it means business, what business are you in.

MR C: Gerrcha; what the freakin' hell is that to do with you, I'm supposed to ask the questions.

IAN : I get it, the good cop, bad cop routine eh. The old lady roughs me up and you ask the questions.

MR C: And I want to know something about your family. What line of business is your Dad in.

IAN : Difficult to say really, had his finger in a lot of pies. Exploiting the pesantry I suppose, but its "was" Pater was a filthy capitalist but is no longer. He shuffled off this mortal coil a few months back.

MR C : What? Can you speak English? Who in hell you talking about?

IAN : Pops, the pater, he from whose seed I am sprung. Got that. Well he's dead, hung up his hat, popped his clogs, one minute he was treading down the masses, the next he was pushing up the grasses, he's a stiff, a zomb, a cadaver, he has sought the solace of eterrnal night, he's taking a vacation in that unexplored land from in whose bourne no traveller returns, he gone to meet his maker. In short he is dead. Uncle Tobes is in the navy if that's any use.

MR C : Dead, well why the freakin' hell didn't you say so. A showbiz family huh? And do you have any career plans? Are you going to join the Village People with your Uncle?

IAN : Well I was supposed to go into the family business, but a producer wallah saw me in the school play and asked me if I'd thought of acting. He offered me some work in a new film.

MR C : Acting huh. Gerrcha. That don't sound like steady work to me. How are you going to be able to provide for a woman's needs?

IAN : Well I do have a substantial part; Wha ha hey.

Mr C is not au fait with the English passion for wordplay and innuendo and does not laugh but merely says "Gerrrcha." Collapse shot and explode into the bedroom where Janet and her mother are arguing furiously

MRS C: I don't give a hoot for swinging London young lady, this is Timewarp, Texas and you are never going to have yourself any kind of future here with your reputation in shreds.

JANET: Reputation phooey. You don't care about my reputation, all you care about is what folks are whispering about you at church coffee mornings. Well I'm going to the prom with Ian even if I have to bust out of here.

(She grabs the bars on the window and shakes them furiously)

MRS C: Well you be sure and wear some sensible underthings (she produces a medieval chasity belt that has been in the family for 700 years) Take this, I wore it for my prom night. Boys that age need something to slow them down.

JANET: That would slow down Ghengis Kahn's army. In fact it probably did. How the hell am I supposed to go for a pee?

MRS C: Janet, on no account are you to go for a pee. If you tell a boy you need to pee it will put in his mind lascivious thoughts about your parts.

JANET: So he's going to pick the lock with his dong? Get real mom. (She lifts up her dress to show that she is wearing sheer stockings and white lacy panties.) Your little girl is all growd up. I even got hair under these panties, I know coz I looked when I was in the bath. Go tell that to your preacher.

MRS C: Looked at your own body. You are a harlot young lady, you're no daughter of mine.

JANET: In that case you will not care what time I get home from the prom. (She flounces out. Janet is probably the best flouncer in the history of womankind, certainly in the history of Hollywood)

MRS C: You be sure to be home by ten lady. I cannot believe you are so ungrateful. The serpent has gotten into you.

JANET: Not yet but I feel lucky.

MRS C: aaaaarrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhh!

Cut to downstairs.

MR C : Well OK, I guess we should make allowances for you limeys because you are all crazy faggots and you are going to be leaving soon anyway my boy. But remember, no drinking, no kissing with tongues and I want Janet back here by ten thirty. And I want her unsullied. GOT THAT?

IAN : Right - o Mr. C, no prob. I shan't leave a bun in the oven, or muffin as you'd say over here. A muffin in the oven; or even a bun in the muffin. (aside to camera) He never said ten thirty tonight; wha - ha - hey. (to Mr. C) Perhaps it will be best if I wait in the old banger, I don't think your wife likes me much.

MR C : The what?

IAN : The car. Little red jobbie parked over the road (Caldwell's face indicates Janet's date has just gone up in his estimation)

MR C : Is that yours? How do you afford a car like that?

IAN : Oh daddy bought it me as a runaround.Triumph TR6. Two point five litre fuel injected straight six engine, five speed close ratio gearbox. Insurance is a bit of a bugger but my allowance from the family trust can afford it.

MR. C : Fast is it?

IAN : Like shit off a shovel mate. Erm - not that I would ever break the speed limit of course, especially with your daughter on board, but I do wind it up on the private roads around the family estate.

MR C: Family estate? Your family has an estate.

IAN: Several actually. We came with William the Conqueror But I suppose you are not intested in the sexual practices of my ancestors; wha - hey! Anyway and he doled out land like it was going out of fashion.

MR C: Hey well like I said I'm really glad Janet met somebody like you, forget what I told you, you can stay out til eleven, I'll handle the old woman.

IAN : Be sure to put on protective clothing before you do mate.

MR C : Ha ha. Say, how'd you like to come around for dinner tomorrow. And if there's time maybe you can take me out for a little spin.

Heavy footsteps as Janet stomps down the stairs.

IAN : Super. Well nice to meet you and all that sounds like Jan coming down the old apples and pears. Looks like I have to be offski, ta - taa.

Janet sweeps past her father and grabs Ian's arm and shoves him out of the door before he can do any really serious damage. Mrs C come into the living room as the lovers exit.

MRS C: Are you just going to stand there and let our baby go off with a young man like that. He has no respect at all since she met him she has taken to dressing like a harlot.

He has debauched my baby.

MR C: Hey come on, the guy's OK, anyone would think he was the devil incarnate (Cut to overhead shot outside. Two horny protrusions on Ian's skull are pushing through his thick dark hair and a forked tail hangs under his jacket.) And you should see his car.

Jan and Ian reach the car and being a well bred young man he opens the door for her, then lets himself in, slams the door having checked his tail is safely stowed inside and starts the engine with a vroom. Camera pans to the Caldwells window where Mrs C is peering round the curtains.

MRS C : Is THAT his CAR. Homer do something. That car is a sex maniac. (she collapses in a dead faint - quick fade to black)

Part 3 coming soon to a screen near you